The Space Between
“When God began to create the heavens and the earth— the earth was without shape or form, it was dark over the deep sea, and God’s wind swept over the waters—“ (Genesis 1:1-2, CEB translation)
There are 6 days between Christ the King Sunday and the first Sunday of Advent.
I don’t know why I never noticed that before. Our Christian year ends on a Sunday, but then doesn’t begin until the next Sunday. But there are still days between those days. A Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. What are those days?
Being a good scholar and Christian, I did what any good scholar and Christian would do when confronted with such a question. I googled it. In the course of my searching, I discovered that Christ the King Sunday is a relatively new Christian day. It was first observed in 1925 under the institution of Pope Pius XI, and it was originally the Sunday before All Saints Sunday, which would have been the last Sunday of October. Then, in 1969 Pope Paul VI moved it to the Sunday before Advent, the last Sunday of Ordinary Time, effectively making it the end of the Christian year.
Except, again, there are 6 days between.
I found nothing out there about those 6 days. It is as if everyone has forgotten they are there. Is it any wonder? In the United States, those 6 days may include Thanksgiving, or they are the kickoff of the Christmas season (never mind Advent) and we switch into full drive busyness. Who has time to think about those six days?
I think I know who has time. I think I have been that person. I think I may be that person now. I think I know what those 6 days are like.
A few months ago, I came face-to-face with trauma. The actual trauma itself had occurred months before, but there was no time to face it then. No, in the midst of the trauma, there were details to be managed. Steps to take. Crises to handle. But months later, the trauma washed over me, drowned me. I happened to be on a retreat, and we had shared our lives with one another, and I had finally told my story, and the gravity of it crushed me down. Quite literally. As I made my way to my room, I sat on the floor. Then I fell over. I curled into a ball. I knew I needed to brush my teeth. I knew I needed to put on my pajamas. I knew I needed to turn out the light. I knew I needed to climb into the bed. And I also knew I could do none of those things.
I slept on the floor. Not by choice, by paralysis.
I know what those 6 days are for. They are the 6 days of shock. They are the 6 days of standstill. They are the 6 days of immobility. They are the days between the eschaton, the coming of the reign of Christ, and the days of waiting patiently for that reign to come. They are the days between finality and new beginnings. Those days exist. We tend to think that as soon as something ends, a new thing begins. Sometimes it is that rapid in the turnaround. But sometimes, sometimes there is just a halting. Just a state of being in chaos. That liminal moment between what was and what is to come.
Like the earth when it was being created.
Something existed before God began creating, at least as the story is laid out in Genesis. There was this chaos – this darkness – that God stepped into and began molding. I have always focused on what God was doing when I have read that story. But now I am seeing it from the earth’s perspective. The earth was there. Not formed. Caught in a state the earth couldn’t get out of on its own. Frozen. And in that space, God came. God formed. God brought order. God redeemed. God breathed life across the dark waters.
And God did it in six days.
I know what those 6 days between Christ the King and Advent are for. They are for recognizing that sometimes life stops us dead. Paralyzes us. Puts us between life and death. But they are also for us to affirm that God is still present in that space. And when we cannot do what we need to do to move on, God will do God’s work. God will create and re-create. God will breathe life across and into us in the darkness.
God will. Thanks be to God.
Photo by Matt Palmer on Unsplash
